


When You Fell, You Fell Towards Me

by pertunes



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 5 Things, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-15
Updated: 2012-11-15
Packaged: 2017-11-18 17:50:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/563753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pertunes/pseuds/pertunes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>4 times Louis fell in and out of love and 1 time he stayed. For <a href="http://1dkinkmeme.livejournal.com/648.html?thread=1205128#t1205128">this</a>, title from Barcelona's "Please Don't Go".</p>
            </blockquote>





	When You Fell, You Fell Towards Me

1.

At sixteen, Liam is all gangly limbs and fringed hair, clumsy and reserved and his best friend is Louis.

At sixteen, Louis is golden skin and scratchy stubble, charming and careless with his heart on his sleeve, and Eleanor swipes it off in three days flat. Neither Liam nor Louis know it at the time, but she’s the first of many.

She’s the prettiest girl in their year and Louis’ eyes constantly trail after her long legs and cute smile, and even though he bores Liam to pieces, chattering on about her day after day, and even though Liam’s hardly looked in the direction of a girl for a few years now, his timid gaze usually cast upon the boys in PE, Liam isn’t _blind_ \- she’s beautiful and laid back and when her laugh rings out Liam knows she’s perfect for Louis.

And Louis is completely _smitten_ , going beet red when he finally asks her out, stuttering and stammering when she giggles at him, something Liam thought Louis was incapable of doing. They’ve only been going out for a few weeks when the football boys are surrounding Louis, clapping their hands on his back and laughing, _you’re fucked, mate_.

Louis laughs with them, shrugging them off and blushing to himself, and after practice he walks home with Liam, giving him the dirty details of his and Eleanor’s latest rendezvous in his mum’s car and cackling when Liam shoves off his kissy faces. Liam doesn’t understand it at the time, but every little word and soft touch from Louis has his heart stuttering, like even the blood in his veins flows on from every tiny look he gets.

A few days into their Christmas holidays, Louis walks in on one of the guys on his football team going down on her and stomps right back out of the room and into Liam’s waiting arms. He watches Louis’ shut down, face withdrawn and he hates how Louis doesn't cry, never cries when he should, when things fall apart like this and Liam holds him in his bed and wants to scream at her, at the other guy, at himself for the tiny bit of guilty satisfaction he feels.

Liam wonders just exactly how fucked _he_ is.

2.

When they’re eighteen, Louis falls for a painter.

They’re on summer holidays, anxiously awaiting university in the fall and they fall asleep outside more nights than not, looking up at the stars while Louis whispers words full of promises and potential and Liam never doubts him for a second.

The beginning of July, Matt starts painting the house next door to Louis and suddenly Liam rarely sees his best friend anymore. They still hang out, but not nearly as often as before, and Liam slowly watches as bruises form on Louis’ wrists, his hips when Liam glances over as they change or go swimming, paint slowly staining his clothes as the summer wears on.

Louis comes around sometimes, late at night sneaking into Liam’s open window and they lay on the floor of Liam’s room together. Now Louis whispers about Matt, telling Liam about the house he’s working on and how he plays guitar and how he let Louis suck him off in a freshly painted bathroom the week before.

It’s shit, and Liam knows it, and he doesn’t care; he’ll take whatever he can get of Louis and that feeling almost scares him more than the raging jealousy he gets when he sees colors on Louis’ skin, thoughtlessly smeared there and haphazardly wiped away.

Louis only mentions leaving with Matt once, mostly (not to Liam) a joke, but Liam still felt like he was drowning, burning from the inside out.

After all that, the break up is almost amusing. Well, to Liam.

Matt moves onto other houses, as house painters do, and for some reason this comes as a shock to Louis. He trudges into Liam’s room after everyone’s asleep and tells him what happened with teary eyes, more from anger, Liam thinks, than anguish.

"And he kissed me on the cheek and patted me on the fucking head, Liam, like I’m a toddler.” Louis finishes his story with a _hmph_ , arms crossed and pouting and Liam tries, he really does, tries so hard to quell his snorting laughter, but it bubbles out of him, giddy, and Liam claps a hand over his mouth.

Louis stares and Liam almost worries that he’s gone too far, actually hurt Louis, but then Louis’ mouth is twitching, “You think my suffering is funny, Payne?” His hands come up to tickle Liam, fingers digging into his sides and Liam actually squeals before he remembers he’s supposed to be quiet.

After much protesting and a horrific promise that Louis can name Liam’s first born if he just _stops, please_ he relents and they lie there panting, flushed and still giggling.

“You know,” Louis starts flippantly, resting his head on Liam’s pillow next to him and covering them both up in the blankets, “You, Liam, are my favorite, forever, okay?” and Liam nods and his heart swells.

3.

_Zayn_ , and fuck if he wasn’t the worst, because he was the one person Liam thought he could have, the one person he thought could make him forget about Louis, completely.

He rolls in the fall of their second year, engulfing Liam like the cooling air and falling leaves and he laughs at Liam’s stupid jokes, listens to his clumsy musings in class and holds his hand while they walk across the quad sometimes, and for every shy blush and stolen touch they share that make Liam’s heart soar, it is nothing compared to the feeling of it breaking when he finds Zayn and Louis pressed up against each other at a party, mouths roaming and Louis’ hand down the front of Zayn’s pants.

He doesn’t know if he says anything, or makes a noise, he can’t hear anything over the blood rushing in his ears, anger and embarrassment pulsing in his veins, but they’re ripping away from each other, faces stunned and then Liam is running from the house, stomping out into the cold night air.

“Liam!” Louis calls after him and Liam hears his footsteps coming up behind him, hears, “Liam, wait, Liam, I'm so fucking sorry, I had no-”

and then he turns around and punches Louis and he doesn’t wait to see if he falls, just marches on, fuming, because how could they have not known, how could _Liam_ have not known, _how can Louis not know?_

4.

Harry comes along with his bouncy curls and dangerous grin and Liam only has to take one look at him before he thinks _oh shit_ , but he’s too late.

Apparently only _just_ too late, as he meets Harry just after Louis does:

“We’ve just met!” Louis yells over the music as he saunters over to Liam in the corner - his typical place at these parties - with Harry, arms around shoulders and leaning on each other. “Liam, this is Harry. Harry, this is Liam, the one I was just telling you about!”

Harry puts out his hand and smiles, all dimples and drunken flush and gleaming eyes and then they’re stumbling away again, whispering into each other’s ears and honest to god _giggling_.

Liam decides right then that he hates Harry and it must show on his face because Niall comes back with two drinks and a sympathetic look.

\--

He can’t escape Harry Styles after that. Harry transfers in the winter and shows up in Liam’s music theory class a few days after the party. And his maths seminar. and once Louis takes a liking to him Harry basically ends up living at their flat, sleeping there and eating their food and snuggling up to Louis any chance he can get; Liam comes home from class to the two of them making heart eyes at each other on the couch, trying and failing to smooth out their hair and clothes when Liam walks in on them. Liam seethes past them on the way to his room and mumbles to himself that it’s hardly walking in when it’s in your own living room, anyway.

Liam thinks that there actually must be someone out to ruin his life when he’s heading up the steps to Simon’s office for his vocal lessons and then Harry fucking Styles is sashaying out of the doors.

“Liam!” comes the cheerful calling of his name and Harry’s bouncing over, engulfing Liam in a hug with flailing limbs. “You go to Simon, too?”

“Yeah, for awhile now,” Liam chokes out from the smothering embrace, because along with Harry’s constant affinity for ripping Liam’s heart out and showing it to him, he also has no concept of personal space.

“He’s brilliant, isn’t he?” Harry asks and before Liam can answer, he’s letting go and saying, “I’ll be seeing you tonight, right? Louis said everyone’s going round to Niall’s.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” Liam stutters out and then Harry’s gone as quick as he was there, bounding off the steps and softly singing the words to whatever song he’s just worked on in a voice that kind of makes Liam want to go kill himself.

Later, he drunkenly relays this story - and more, not that he recalls the next morning - to Niall who keeps the drinks coming as Liam sullenly watches Harry and Louis sloppily sneak kisses in the next room from the corner of his eye.

He gets absolutely plastered and the last thing he remembers is snotting up Niall’s shirt and tripping over his own feet as they stumbled back to Liam’s flat.

\--

A few weeks later and Liam trips in the door, weighed down by a ridiculous mountain of coursework that keeps him awake for a few days. He locks himself in his room and throws himself into it, emerging only when he needs the bathroom or when Louis lures him out with food.

He’s in the middle of his last essay and he must not have realized he dozed off because he startles awake when someone take his hands off his keyboard, shutting his laptop. 

“S’only me, Li.” Louis’ voice is quieter than Liam thinks he’s ever heard it and then he’s being pulled up and out of his desk chair, stiff uncoordinated limbs guided to his bed. “Time for a break, yeah?”

Liam _hmm_ s tiredly and goes with it, laying down where Louis’ hands push him. He rolls over, yawning, already drifting off, but then he stiffens up when he feels Louis crawl in after and pull the covers over them both, because this is not how he imagined sharing a bed with Louis would happen. Liam’s thoughts are jumbled, clinging onto sleep and then he thinks of Harry, wonders why Louis is here with him and not off making out with gorgeous Harry somewhere.

Louis’ arm tightens around his waist, breath against his neck and he mumbles out, “Hush about Harry, we’re napping now,” and who knew Liam said any of that out loud, but then they’re drifting off to sleep together, Harry forgotten.

Liam wakes up a few hours later curled around Louis, legs intertwined. He stretches, feeling more rested than he has in weeks, and he takes in Louis in his arms: he’s peaceful in sleep, contrasting his boisterous personality in waking hours, and the lines in his face have smoothed out making him look young, boyish. His mouth is slack as he breathes deep, the corners twitching as he dreams and Liam imagines himself moving, just shifting the tiniest amount to kiss Louis awake, but then Louis is cracking open his eyes and yawning, stretching out his arms above his head sleepily and he’s so close, so close, just spread out before Liam.

Liam’s on the floor before he even knows he’s moved. His legs are tangled in the blankets and he curses himself, twisting free and bolting out of the room without ever looking back at Louis, not even when he hears him confusedly calling after him.

He runs to Niall’s flat, barely remembering shoes, banging on the door until Niall lets him in with a snarling, “Have you got any idea what time it is, Liam?” but he softens at Liam’s hitching breaths and rambling words.

Niall sighs and lets Liam press his face into his neck, mutters, “Mate, how many more times are you gonna do this?”

\--

(One moment, though looking back there are so many he missed, sticks with Liam:

Liam is in the kitchen doing the dishes, singing along loudly to whatever’s on the radio. He doesn’t actually know the words so he’s making most of them up, laughing at himself.

The sun is going down, light catching on the windows and bouncing around the room and when Liam looks up, Louis is there with his car keys in his hand, frozen, staring at him with a calculating look.

Liam stops singing abruptly and turns back to the plate he was washing, face heating up. When he looks back, Louis’ head is ducked down, biting his lip, and Liam swears he feels something snap in the air and he goes to say something but then Harry is bounding in the door, whooping and clinging to Louis.)

\--

They last for over a year - well, seventeen months, but who’s counting? (Liam, always.) It is the longest relationship Louis’ had, the longest Liam has witnessed, and it nearly tears them all apart.

The last few months are filled with fighting, biting arguments and late night phone calls that keep Liam up at night, listening from his bed as Louis paces in the living room and waiting for the night when he hangs up and doesn’t call back.

He watches Louis hollow out, become a shadow of the person he was - _his Louis_ , he thinks fiercely. Liam watches them slowly slip apart, crashing away from each other, and Harry will occasionally bounce back to Louis, slinking into their flat, into Louis’ room late at night with a bruised mouth and eyes shining with more than their typical party rush. Liam will close his eyes and wait, hearing Louis’ concerned voice and things breaking (picture frames and phones and Louis and Harry), hearing _no, don’t, Harry, don’t_ and Harry’s floaty _love you Louis, I love you_ and he covers his ears before the moaning starts.

In the morning, over tea and Louis’ bruised face, Louis will say Harry is restless (Liam thinks _dangerous_ , thinks of Harry’s mad grin at that party so long ago) and Liam wants to shake him

It ends with Harry leaving, packing up his own flat and moving out without telling anyone. Louis goes to see him one day and comes back with a blank face and stoney eyes, and Liam doesn’t see him for a few days after the door to his room slams shut. Liam himself only finds out what happens when Ed of all people calls him and says Harry’d shown up at his place and he let him stay there until he came back one night half out of his mind and Ed had to take him to get his stomach pumped.

Louis finally emerges and goes out with Niall and Aiden in tow, comes back more pissed than Liam’s ever seen him.

He rubs his back as Louis retches into the toilet, tears and snot running down his face, a complete mess. When he starts sobbing, Liam gathers him up and pulls him to his chest, squeezing him too tight on their dirty bathroom floor.

Louis’ breath hitches terrifyingly fast, and Liam grips him closer. He calms a little, starts rambling into Liam’s ear and whispers, “Why’s everyone got to leave me, Liam?” before he finally passes out.

Liam thinks _never me, fuck you, never me_ angrily, elated once more at having Louis in his arms again.

1.

They settle, after awhile: Liam returns his weary eyes to Louis, watchful like they’ve been for years, and Louis slowly comes back around; Harry disappears, thoughts of him turning into a few weeks of harsh nights and insatiable drinking at the end of term before it peters out, becoming a blip in Louis’ life and, in turn, Liam’s. If anything’s changed it’s Louis, and if it was anybody but Liam they wouldn’t notice, but Liam can see the way Louis’ eyes tame, just a little, holding his heart higher, closer to his chest and Liam _hates_ it.

Liam’s own heart never rests, a constant flutter in his chest like it beckons for Louis, and Liam thinks that if this is all they ever have, a handsy friendship with Liam always picking up the pieces, he hopes that that feeling never stops, doesn’t think he could get used to it if he tried.

Niall finishes his degree and Liam and Louis spend a few days helping him pack, loading up boxes and moving furniture. They stumble into their flat in the early evening on tired legs, sweaty and breathless from exertion and laughter. They sprawl out on their couch, flinging limbs over each other and panting, and Liam lets himself wallow for a while, closing his eyes and thinking of seeing Niall off in the morning.

When he opens them, Louis has gone quiet, sat up straight again and fixing Liam with this _look_ , all calculating and captivated.

Liam recognizes it from somewhere, can’t pinpoint what exactly, and as well versed as he is in deciphering Louis, he opens his mouth to question

and then Louis’ face is crumpling, just a little, brow furrowing and “I’ve been so fucking stupid, Liam,” rushes out in a heavy breath, like he’s been holding it in for a long time, and Liam thinks _shit, shit, who is it, who_ tearing through his mind, heart sinking, because he’d been watching so closely and he’d been so careful, who could it be now

and then Louis is kissing him, taking his face in his hands and connecting their mouths with a harsh press of lips and Liam sputters for a minute, his heart leaping from where it sank and catching somewhere inside his throat. His brain catches up after a minute and he pushes away, hears “Louis?” come from his mouth, weary and utterly confused.

Louis’ chest is heaving, breath catching and his eyes are closed and Liam feels that familiar crackle in the air, popping and electric, and then Louis opens his eyes and Liam knows, has seen that look countless times before but never directed at him and never like this, and the only word that comes to his mind is adoring.

Louis head comes to rest on his, so close they’re almost cross eyed and Liam has to clear the haze from his mind to hear the words tumbling out of Louis, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Liam, you can hate me after this, you’ve just, you’ve gotta know, I can’t keep - I don’t know what to do anymore, but I think, I, I’m in love with you, Liam, and that’s it, that’s all, that’s all I have.”

Liam’s mind is still scrambling and Louis starts to pull away, stuttering out, “I-I’m sorry, sorry, Liam-”

“Say it again,” Liam hears and it takes him a minute to realize that’s his voice, breathy and desperate and he takes Louis’ hands in his, “Say it, say it again.”

“I don’t, Liam, I can go if you want, I don’t-”

“Shut up and say it again,” Liam snaps and it makes no sense and then Liam feels the second understanding comes to Louis, snapping to awareness and they’re kissing again, clacking teeth and lips splitting and Louis’ voice rumbles through him anytime they come up for air, “I love you, Liam, love you love you love you.”

“You fucking twat,” Liam chokes out, pushing away again but not far, because _is this even fucking real_ , “How, Louis, you never,” but he can’t finish that sentence so Louis does for him, “I did, I did, I realized I felt something, but it wasn’t like with anyone else, nothing like any of them, and, it fucking terrified me, Liam, so I ignored it, for a long time I tried to brush it off, but I can’t, I just can’t any more.”

Liam is quiet for a minute and then he mumbles, “You fucking idiot,” hands coming to Louis’ head, sliding into his hair and gripping hard enough to hurt. “Since we were _sixteen_ , Louis.”

Louis’ eyes are wide and shining and he says, “Then I've got a lot of making up to do,” and it’s supposed to be funny but his voice has an edge to it and it breaks, so Liam hauls him back again, kisses his nose, his cheeks, his eyelids and babbling love you, love you and god knows what in his own hoarse voice until Louis quiets him, murmurs, “it’s okay, you have me, always, you _have_ me,” and it is so drastically clear in Liam’s ears, that Louis has always been his, and they have both been fumbling around in the dark and waiting for Liam to be Louis’.


End file.
